Nova has haunted his dreams for nearly a year-but Quinton never thought a sweet, kind person like her would care enough about a person like him. To Quinton, a dark, dangerous life is exactly what he deserves. And Nova has no place in it. But Nova has followed him to Las Vegas, and now he must do whatever it takes to keep her away, to maintain his self-imposed punishment for the unforgivable things he's done. But there's one flaw in his plan: Nova isn't going anywhere . . .
“Nova, get in here,” Lea, my best friend and roommate for the last
year, calls out from my room, interrupting my video making. “I think I found
something.”
I open my eyes and stare at my image on the screen, so different
from how I appeared last summer when I was addicted to several things,
including denial. “I’ll pick up on this later,” I say to my camera phone, then
click it off and flip upright, getting to my feet.
Blood rushes down from my head and vertigo sets in, sending the
nearly empty room around me spinning. I brace my hand against the wall and make
my way to the bedroom.
“What’d you find?” I ask Lea as I stumble through the doorway.
She’s sitting on the floor in the midst of our packing boxes with
the computer on her lap, her back against the wall and her legs stretched out
in front of her. “An old newspaper article on the Internet that mentions a
Quinton Carter involved in a fatal car accident in Seattle.”
I briefly stop breathing. “What’s it say?” I whisper, fearing the
truth. She skims the article on the screen. “It says that he was one of the
drivers and that two people in the car he was driving were dead on arrival.”
She pauses, sucking in a slow breath. “And it says that he died, too, but that
the paramedics revived him.”
I swallow hard as denial begins to evaporate and I’m forced to
admit the truth. All that time I spent with Quinton and I didn’t know the dark
secrets eating away at him. “Are you sure that’s what it says?” I ask her, denial
trying to grasp hold one last time. I’m trying to hold on to the idea that
Quinton just does drugs because he’s bored. Things would be easier if that were
the case. Well, not easy, but then I’d just be helping him with addiction
instead of what’s hidden beneath the addiction. And things are never easy—life
never is. Mine isn’t. Landon’s wasn’t. Quinton’s isn’t. Lea’s isn’t. So many
heartbreaking stories and I wish I could document them all.
Lea glances up from the screen with a look of sympathy on her face.
“I’m sorry, Nova.”
I take several deep breaths, fighting the urge to count the cracks
in the ceiling as I sink down on the mattress, wondering what I’m supposed to
do. The plan was to move out of the apartment and head back home for summer
break. Spend three months in my hometown, Maple Grove, until I return to Idaho
to start my junior year of college. And I’m one for following plans, otherwise
the undetermined future unsettles me. It’s one of the things I learned to do to
help alleviate my anxiety.
I had plans this summer, to spend time with my mom, play music with
Lea when she visits for a few weeks, and work on a documentary, maybe even get
some better camera equipment. But as I take in what I’ve just learned about
Quinton, I’m starting to wonder if I should be following a different plan, one
that I should have followed nine months ago, only I wasn’t in the right state
of mind to.
About the author:
Jessica Sorensen is a #1 New York Times and USA
Todaybestselling author
who lives with her husband and three kids in Idaho. When she's not
writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.
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